


(home?) on a saturday night

by seattlesunrise



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4181247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seattlesunrise/pseuds/seattlesunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sober Brendon was too loud, too touchy, too “that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard”, so drunk Brendon was all that times ten. It just didn’t mix well with Ryan after shows, too tired, too “I’ve had people staring and screaming at me for the past 90 (plus) minutes so could everyone please just leave me alone thanks.” But when Ryan opened the door Brendon just smiled lop-sidedly like Ryan was some kind of sight for sore eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(home?) on a saturday night

The tv sends out a glow that lights the outlines of everything in the hotel room, somewhere between states, between shows. It’s late, or it must be. The last time Ryan checked the clock it was midnight, and that’s when there was a knock on the door, Brendon returning from wherever, Ryan wasn’t listening, he had been exhausted and planned to go right to sleep, but when he collapsed on the bed (closer to the window because Brendon wasn’t there to claim it first) sleep wouldn’t come. So he grabbed his notebook and flipped on the tv for background noise. It felt like Brendon wasn’t out for long because he came back relatively soon. Ryan was apprehensive when he heard the knock. After all, he didn’t know Brendon would be going out tonight, and he normally didn’t like Brendon (or anyone) after he’d been drinking. Sober Brendon was too loud, too touchy, too “that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard”, so drunk Brendon was all that times ten. It just didn’t mix well with Ryan after shows, too tired, too “I’ve had people staring and screaming at me for the past 90 (plus) minutes so could everyone please just leave me alone thanks.” But when Ryan opened the door Brendon just smiled lop-sidedly like Ryan was some kind of sight for sore eyes. 

“Hey” he breathed.

Ryan had smiled. Brendon had something to drink, but he didn’t overdo it tonight. Maybe he didn’t want to pick a fight with Ryan after all. 

Ryan’s not sure how much time has passed between him closing the door behind Brendon and now, but it’s been a while. He’s lying on his window-side bed, half-watching the movie with a very warm, sort-of drunk, and very content Brendon pressed to his side. He doesn’t remember the progression, but it doesn’t really matter, because Brendon isn’t being annoying, he’s sort of warm and sleepy in a way that’s almost endearing if they weren’t pushing as many boundaries as they are, but Ryan’s not thinking about it. He’s got his arm underneath Brendon with his hand carding through Brendon’s locks (which wasn’t really Ryan’s conscious decision, more of his hand’s own intent).

Brendon thinks it’s kind of nice, because Ryan isn’t being a little bitch tonight. He came back early because he was tired, and because there wasn’t any exciting company at the party, which seems like hours ago. The bottom line is, he didn’t drink as much as he wanted to, and maybe now it’s kind of a good thing because Ryan’s not pushing him away and he’s not doing that thing where he’s looking anywhere but Brendon’s eyes, which Brendon sort of really hates. So Brendon sighs wistfully as Ryan’s long fingers glide through the strands of his hair. He could fall asleep if he wasn’t buzzing a little from the alcohol. He’s half watching the movie, and he figures Ryan is half watching too, but they’re not making conversation either. They’re just kind of sitting there content with each other’s company, quiet, dark, and familiar. It reminds Brendon of the times Ryan would bring his laptop, a dvd, and fast food over to his apartment, before the world exploded. One time, Ryan brought over Romeo and Juliet. Brendon smiled, he’s a romantic (in a weird sort of way), Ryan knows. Ryan didn’t say anything, because he secretly is too, but that movie is somber enough that the romance doesn’t have to be Ryan’s main reason for liking it. This now is like that then, except everything is different. 

That night, Brendon had pressed into Ryan’s side, and Ryan had let him. Brendon thought they were kind of the same, their parents had both disowned them just because they were trying to get away from their own personal hell. Brendon had inched closer to Ryan, who tensed when Brendon finally glued himself to his friend’s side, but Brendon wasn’t trying anything, and he really, really wasn’t trying to be clingy, he just knew Ryan maybe probably needed to be held. Eventually, Ryan had relaxed against him as his laptop whirred and Mercutio screamed “a plague on both your houses" as they were falling asleep. They woke up on separate sides of Brendon’s shitty mattress before Brendon left for the afternoon shift.

Now, Ryan’s relaxed, open, as Brendon fits into his side. Brendon almost feels like Ryan’s holding on, that tonight something so strange has gotten into his friend that he not only accepts Brendon’s clinginess, but welcomes it. Weird. He looks up and sees the outline of Ryan’s nose, tv glow sending minimal light onto his face, showing his lips in a tiny smirk, and Brendon fleetingly thinks he looks pretty. But he always thinks that, makes a note to tell Ryan too, who sneers and flips him off before making a comment about Brendon’s hips. Ryan’s eyes are still dark and still facing the tv when he says “I know you weren’t watching in the first place, but you’re about to miss a really good part.”

Brendon blinks and turns his attention back to the tv; he doesn’t even know what they’re watching.

Ryan doesn’t, either.

“Ryan?”

He closes his eyes and hums in acknowledgement.

“Do you ever think-“ Brendon starts.

“Yes.”

One. Two.

“Now go to sleep, B.” he says, and presses his lips lightly to Brendon’s forehead.

Brendon does. 

When they stir just before the sun rises, they aren't on separate sides of the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I think better when I'm in the shower? This didn't happen. Really. It's not real. It's short, but it was really vivid in my head. I was thinking of making it part of like these snapshots of their relationship that I keep envisioning. But here's this. Let me know what you think!


End file.
